


Serein

by Furud



Category: White Collar
Genre: AU Peter never met Elizabeth, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 20:31:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furud/pseuds/Furud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don’t know how that would have worked out. I loved her, but sometimes… Sometimes love is not enough</p><p>–Really? What is it out there, besides love?</p><p>–Despite all the Beatles songs Peter, not all you need is love.</p><p>The cop stayed silent for a moment, frowning –Are you talking about art?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serein

**Author's Note:**

> Para Luli por sugerir cosas tan terribles como escribir un Scisaac.

–So, why you never got married? I would have pegged you for the type

–Oh you know. It crossed my mind a couple of times. But never found that “something”– it was a practiced answer.

They stayed in silence, both deep in thought. It was funny, how knowing someone so much and catching him (two times) can forge such a strange relationship. It was cold outside, drying up after a surprising evening rain, New York City lights making impossible to watch any stars but the occasional airplane crossing the night sky towards the John F. Kennedy airport. For a newyorker, the noise of the streets it was almost relaxing, smells mixing in the air with the slight hint of wet pavement.

–What about you? – asked Peter, turning to stare at Neal. They were leaning against the expensive rail of June’s roof, looking to the street beneath, not wanting to sit down in the wet chairs. Got off work early, and Neal suggested drinks at his place; drinks meaning beer for Peter and wine of suspicious origin for Neal. Better without questions of the provenance of anything in his department really.

–I thought about it. With Kate– both winced at the name, memories still hurtful even after a year –But you know how that worked out– he tried to joke, moving his glass of wine a couple of times without drinking it.

A patrol siren wailing through the street break the moment, startling them. Both looked down to follow it, more from habit than anything else.

–To be honest– said Neal suddenly, resuming the talk –I don’t know how that would have worked out. I loved her, but sometimes… Sometimes love is not enough

–Really? What is it out there, besides love?

–Despite all the Beatles songs Peter, not all you need is love.

The cop stayed silent for a moment, frowning –Are you talking about art?

Neal laughed. Peter devoured the sight of his CI, throwing his head back, carefree with his curls untamed after a hard day. God, he looked so young.

–No, I’m not talking about art– he paused, giggling a little more –But to be honest art comes pretty close to lo…

–I’m going to stop you right there Caffrey–declared Peter, straightening his back and smiling too –So, what were you talking about? – Insisted after a pause –You cannot say that love isn’t obviously pretty important in a relationship

–There’s friendship. Understanding the other and respect. And trust. Among others –replied Neal, without meeting Peter’s eyes

–Well, look at you. All grown up and mature– he eyed up and down Neal –I’m kinda proud.

–Shut up. I mean it– said the forger, elbowing him but smiling.

–So do I.

Both sipped their beverages, enjoying the taste in his mouth and stealing glances at each other

Peter thought about the “something”. A practiced answer to a usual question. Along the way it had become his truth, he looked but the “something” never showed up, no one to blame. Sometimes when he got to his cold home, he regretted it. Not looking harder, longer. Had Satchmo, but some nights, with the lights out, and the other side of his king size bed empty, he couldn’t help to wonder. Fantasize. Blue eyes and a warm voice saying “welcome home”.  
Neal suddenly moved, jerking him away from his thoughts. It was raining again, and he headed inside, throwing a glance over his shoulder. Peter followed him. They got inside just in time to avoid getting wet, and Neal opened the door, holding it open for Peter

–Serein

–What?

–Serein– repeated Neal, talking louder –It’s called serein the light rain of the evening. Like this one. Jesus, they never make you open a dictionary in the FBI do they?

There’s something in that second, in the way Neal is looking at him. It’s teasing, it’s not love, a simple joke that shouldn’t make his heart beat the way its beating

He shouldn’t be blamed for kiss him.

–I’m pissed off they called it serein instead of se–rain

Neal’s laugh echoed through the air.


End file.
